


Old Sins Cast Long Shadows

by jairyn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 03:20:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15306309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jairyn/pseuds/jairyn
Summary: Random story idea that came out of nowhere. Badass Pirate Queen Ahsoka gets challenged to a duel by Darth Vader (not yet knowing he was once her master). (And if you want to know more about who Ashla is because she’s probably going to pop up in all my stories from here on out, I recommend reading my Rey Theory)





	1. Chapter 1

“Lady Sova, lady Sova,” he yelled racing into the room. She flicked away the plant she was chewing on and looked up in mild curiosity. He did this just about once a week, there was no point getting anxious about whatever bad news he felt he needed to share this time.

“What is it, Perch?” She played with her fingernails.

 He came screeching to a halt on the other side of her desk, but still managing to hit it hard enough to shift everything an inch to the right. And spill a drop of caf onto the documents she had spread over it. “Sorry, m'lady!” He bowed hurriedly and bonked his head on the edge of the desk. “Oof.” He rubbed it as he seemed to momentarily forget why he’d come running into her office to begin with.

 Perch was a strange little man she’d met on the Rishi outpost in the outer rim. He was squat and covered in grey feathers. He was clumsy, but he had a good sense of humor when he wasn’t a nervous wreck. He was loyal and he never complained, which was the main reason she let him stay with her crew. His large oval eyes were exaggerated in size by a bent set of spectacles that barely stayed on his tiny beak. She supposed it was fitting that he was her right-hand man-bird-thing, since she’d been going by the name Sova for quite a few years now. Sova meant owl. And ever since she’d started being haunted by a convoree, it was the perfect nickname for her. Temnaya Sova; dark owl. But her familiar was a pastel green and yellow convoree. Nothing dark about it. But names have power, and to keep up appearances, she’d chosen one that had just a little more intimidation to it.

 He pulled up his trousers a couple inches and then his eyes widened and he went back into panic mode. “Lady Sova,” he said spreading his feathery fingers out across her desk. “You’ve been challenged to a duel!”

 "Oh really?“ she smirked, dropping her feet off the edge of the desk and standing up. "Who is fool enough to challenge me this time?”

 "Lord Vader,“ he whispered. If his eyes got any wider she was certain they’d pop right out of his head.

 "Lord Vader?” she scoffed. “What’s he even a lord of?”

 "I don’t know,“ Perch trembled. "But m'lady, you mustn’t go! I’ve heard such terrible things about him. It’s where Jedi go to die! If Jedi die there, you don’t stand a chance.”

 "Good thing I’m not a Jedi.“ She rolled the knots out of her shoulders, letting the weight of pain and memories set her jaw in determination. No she wasn’t a Jedi. Not anymore. She should hate them for throwing her out, but ironically, it saved her from sharing their fate. She was once Ahsoka Tano, faithful and hard-working padawan to the late Anakin Skywalker; the chosen one, the hero with no fear. Hah. It was laughable. He’d been powerful, no doubt about that. But he’d neither saved the Jedi, nor been fearless. But she, a forgotten nobody had survived. All because the Jedi had believed for no good reason that she’d turned against them and the Republic.

 The chancellor, now the Emperor, had demanded the death sentence. Anakin had proved her innocent. But she’d left the order anyways. Because she couldn’t trust them to help her ever again. Even Anakin had helped her only by helping himself. He’d proved her innocent so she’d stay in the order for him, because he needed her. He never once asked her what she needed. She’d learned a very valuable lesson that day; she was the only one that could save her. She had to be her own hero. So she’d walked away. It hadn’t felt very heroic at the time. But she never ever again would put her fate in someone else’s hands. Or her heart, for that matter. They couldn’t be trusted.

 "But they say he has magical powers! That he can kill a person without touching them! And he has one of those, what do you call them? Laser swords! Red! The color of blood!” Perch cried.

 "Relax,“ she brushed past him. "Have a little faith in me. I’ve faced worse.”

 "Oh please don’t go, my lady!“ Perch wailed, grabbing her arm to stop her from leaving. She pulled away from him. "Sorry.”

 "Tell this lord Vader, I accept.“


	2. Chapter 2

She stared at the skull shaped helmet, black as the darkness surrounding his heart. She wasn’t scared, but she knew why others were. Sith. They’re all the same when it came down to it. Just like the Jedi. Both just people with too much power and too much time to spend on personal vendettas, laying waste to anything and everything that stands in their way.

 She spit to the side, standing taller. To duel someone with a lightsaber, with only a blaster, usually meant certain death. But she had no intention of dying today. He would bend to her, or he would die.

 "Ahsoka Tano,“ the thing in the mask rasped. His voice grainy and weak through the vocalizer in his helmet. She could feel his pain from here.

 "There’s no one here by that name,” she replied nonchalantly. It may have once been her name, but it was no longer who she was. Ahsoka Tano had been weak and too eager to please, hanging on every dripping piece of praise she could obtain. She didn’t need praise anymore. She didn’t care what anybody thought of her. She didn’t even care why he knew it.

 He moved his cloak and unclipped two lightsabers from his belt, throwing them at her feet. Then he pulled out his own. She stared at the familiar weapons on the floor in front of her. The times she held them felt like a lifetime ago. “Pick them up and fight me proper,” he ordered.

 "Lightsabers are for cowards,“ she spat, bending her knees and arching her back. And she didn’t need them. She narrowed her eyes, watching him carefully. He was in pain. He was having trouble breathing. His limbs moved just awkwardly enough to tell her that he was mostly machine. No surprise there, the dark side liked to torture their members. General Grievous had been so little organic and so much machine she had no idea how there was anything left to think with.

 Her eyes moved up him in unblinking concentration. Control panel on his chest like a target. Too well defended to be much use to her. A comm device clipped to the front of his belt, sandwiched between too thick devices with green and red lights. Whoever had designed this suit had basically left everything he needed to survive vulnerable and exposed. If there were that many control buttons on the surface, likely he was confined by this suit, which meant that hidden beneath the fabric or his cloak were packets of water, a source of air, a source of food and a place for waste. That meant, he’d be slow. It was probably heavy. So his movements would have to be precise and followed by force.

 It felt as though she was about to go against a blunt instrument. Though they may have once been powerful, they relied too heavily on darkness, and would most likely be blinded by it as well.

 He lowered his weapon as though her comment had hit him directly in the ego. But it was true. Anybody could wield a lightsaber if they so chose. Some wielded them better than others. But come on, a high-tech energy sword that could slice through anything from flesh to the densest metal was hardly a weapon of precision and power. It did all the work for you. Sometimes she missed hers, but she’d learned to live without them. And now she fought without them. So the fact that they were sitting on the floor in front of her again now, meant nothing.

 She leapt high into the air, flipping to roll out of the way of his strike. She ducked under several more swings, feeling her way around how he moved and finding his weaknesses. She pulled a device from her arm guard, clipping it to his leg as she rolled by. It sent a shock up his leg and he dropped to one knee.

 He deflected the shots she fired at him, but she danced out of the way. "I sense your fear,” he taunted. She landed her last flip and looked up at him in confusion. 

 "Fear? What fear?“ She crossed her arms as though this was a chat between friends and they were simply disagreeing. "I feel nothing anymore. So if you feel fear, it isn’t mine.”

 They circled each other. She could feel him studying her. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but she couldn’t place it. “How did it feel when the Jedi betrayed you?”

 She lifted a brow. How did he know these things about her? “I’m sure you can imagine. If he hasn’t betrayed you yet, the Emperor will do the same to you. Then you’ll know exactly what it feels like. But I’ll save you the wait,” she pulled her blaster back to her hand, bending down to dramatically pull the six-inch shiv out of the side of her boot. She watched his reflection in the shiny, sturdy metal. It wasn’t a lightsaber that could burn through everything it touched. But there was a certain amount of pleasure that came from besting a superior weapon with something small and simple like a knife. All she had to do was cut him off from the pieces of his suit that helped him live. She’d performed plenty of surgical strikes like that to date, this was nothing new. “It feels like death.”

 She leapt at him, twirling to miss his blunt swing by a hair, she made contact with her shiv as it ripped through part of his left arm. He pushed her back with the force, but she could see that he was favoring it now. See that was the thing about sharp knives versus lightsabers. Knives made you bleed. Lightsabers cauterized any wounds they cause. It was gruesome and un-Jedi-like to enjoy a little blood. But she never killed for killing’s sake. Everyone she bled got a fair fight first. It wasn’t her fault they were fool enough to challenge her. And it turned out, Sith bled like the rest of them.

 She moved around him, low, utilizing speed and acrobatics to stay out of the way of his swings. He wasn’t tiring as fast as she hoped, but she could see the unmistakable flow of blood from where she’d sliced him. A few more feints and she landed one across his right thigh. Shallow enough to bleed profusely. She felt his pain fuel him, realizing that perhaps this only made him stronger. But in reality, even if pain was the source of a Sith’s power, eventually he’d go faint from blood loss.

 At some point in the fight, he gave up trying to swing his lightsaber at her and lifted her off the ground in a force choke. She closed her eyes and threw her dagger. It hit him right between the shoulder and neck guard as his focus had been on his spell. He dropped her, crying out in pain. She pulled out her blaster and shot twice, once at the left control device on his belt and the other at his left ankle. He collapsed to the ground as his mechanical limb crumpled beneath him. 

 She rooted herself, feet shoulder length apart, waiting for his blast of the force. It never came. The audience that had gathered, part her crew, part Imperials, were watching on the edge of their seat. Lord Vader was a well-known source of evil, with a fearsome reputation. And she was a pirate queen with a mismatched crazy crew, with an outrageous reputation. No one expected her to win. Not the Imperials, not even her crew, least of all him.

 He ripped the dagger out of his shoulder, gasping at the rush of blood. “Ahsoka,” he rasped as he looked up at where she stood over him. She watched him, ice racing through her veins. It couldn’t be. He was dead.

 "Kill him, kill him!“ the crowd shouted. She couldn’t see his face, but she felt his helplessness. Blood pooled around him.

 "Finish me,” he choked. She swallowed hard. No matter what she’d become, could she really kill the person she’d once loved?

 She force pulled his lightsaber to her hand. “You ask for death and mercy when you offered none?”

 "Please,“ he begged. She could feel his strength fading. "The Emperor,” he reached out his hand to her. “Won’t let me die.”

 He fell forward, holding onto her boots. She looked around at the crowd as the faces blurred in the pool of tears that welled in her eyes. Whatever Anakin had done, could she truly leave him to suffer? Maybe he wasn’t her hero anymore, but he didn’t deserve to be used in such a horrible manner. She had a reputation as a ruthless pirate. Ending any that challenged her. But in this moment, his death would be a mercy. Was she feeling merciful today?

 She spun the lightsaber in her hands and jabbed it down through his back. Chaos erupted around her as her crew started fighting the Imperials. There was so much noise and commotion but all she felt in that moment was his life fade away. She rolled him over, kneeling by his side and unclasping his helmet. She ran her hand down the pale, scarred skin, closing his eyes.

 "My lady, we have to go!“ Someone shouted to her.

 "Bring him,” she ordered.

 "What?“

 "I said, bring him. Bring his body back to the ship. Do it now!”

 "Yes, my lady!“ Several people picked him up, carrying him to their ship. She pulled the helmet to her hand and followed them.

 "Put him in there, and fetch my daughter,” she commanded, pointing to the med bay. “Tell Rex he’s responsible for getting us back to Haven. And under no circumstances other than certain doom, are we to be disturbed.”

 "Yes, my lady,“ came a chorus of voices from her devoted crew. As soon as they’d put him down and left the med bay, she slipped an oxygen mask over his head and went to work removing all the pieces of the suit. Starting with the places she’d slashed him, so she could treat his wounds. The advantage to fighting the way she did, was that because she knew how to make them bleed, she also knew what she had to do to stop the bleeding. And despite her bloodied hands, she worked tirelessly to stop the flow of blood.

 And yes, he was still bleeding. Because, in the ultimate sleight of hand, she’d turned off the lightsaber before jabbing it through him. To the untrained eye, she’d stabbed him in the back. But to a former Jedi, she’d spared him. His pulse and life force was weak, but he was still alive. She hadn’t been feeling merciful today after all. But she had played fair. He saved her life for his own selfish reasons, she saved his for the same selfish reasons. There was a small mercy in disguise though, he was no longer the Emperor’s tool.

 "Why are you trying to save him?” Ashla asked, bursting through the door breathlessly.

 "I’ll explain later. Help me with this,“ she replied.

 "There isn’t much left to save,” Ashla whispered as her senses had cast over him.

 "I know.“

 "Isn’t he the person that challenged you?” Ashla stood opposite of her, looking down at the helmet she’d set near his head on the table. “Lord Vader or something or rather?”

 "Ashla,“ she snapped her bloody fingers in her daughter’s face. "Focus.”

 "Sorry, mom,“ she said and went to work. They moved in silence, both deep in the force trying to save someone she’d long believed to be dead. Ahsoka focused on the physical wounds of his body, while Ashla worked on the parts of him that were machine. For her, it felt less like working on a human and more on a droid. She wished Artoo was here, but then again, Ashla was even better at this stuff than him. Mainly because, she’d inherited her love for machines from the half-man now lying on the table between them.

 She could not believe the extent of damage to his body, as more and more horribleness was revealed as each piece was removed. Even in her selfishness, she could understand why he’d begged her for death. No wonder she’d felt so much pain in him. The very suit designed to keep him alive, also kept him in a heightened state of awareness. It was bulky, crude and uncomfortable. An Iron Maiden of sorts. She could see every pressure point in which it dug into his flesh. She didn’t have to be a mechanical genius to see how the apparatus worked to keep the wearer alive.

 A small feeding tube looped through the helmet, rationing out vitapaste; a horrible excuse for nutrition. It was a blend of superfoods, chocked full of vitamins and electrolytes essential to keep your body moving. It was also disgusting. Not a single flavor in the galaxy could make it tolerable enough not to gag. Two other tubes snaked their way up through the thick neck guard into the sharp jutting jaw. One had condensation in it and was probably the one that supplied his water. The other had to be his oxygen tube. She followed them down into the back of his vest, carefully unhooking them and turning off the tank and closing the valve. Then she unlatched the neck piece and set it aside. Studying the horrible scars that ran up his neck. It looked as though someone had cut it open, placed a tube inside his esophagus and then clumsily closed the skin. Worse yet, the tube looked far too big and jutted out, giving his neck a strange shape.

 She sighed to herself, wishing she understood what had happened and how he’d ended up like this. She went to wash her hands. She turned on the medical imaging device above the bed and then put on sterile gloves as it directed her how best to repair the damage. She wasn’t a doctor and she’d never been a healer, but she couldn’t leave him in a state that depended on that horrible suit. So that meant she had to do the cuts herself. There were doctors where they were headed, but if she didn’t do it now, he wouldn’t live long enough to make it to them.

 She cleared her head of all distractions, glancing at her daughter who was hard at work repairing and upgrading his left ankle that she’d shot her blaster through. She admired Ashla’s concentration and focus for a moment. How a sixteen-year-old could drop everything and put her all into saving someone she didn’t even know was impressive. But Ashla had always been impressive to her. She had more strength and sensitivity to the force than anyone she’d ever known, even him.

 The two of them had been the original lost souls on this ship of refugees. A few years in, she’d stumbled across Rex who’d poignantly described the downfall of the Republic and she’d offered him a place in the crew which he’d gladly accepted. He knew that Ashla was Anakin’s daughter, but they never spoke about it. Ashla and Rex were the only two people in the galaxy she trusted more than herself. Anakin had once been one of them, but he’d lost it somewhere along the way. If he chose to stay with them, it would take awhile for her to learn to trust him again.

 She shook her head and went back to the surgery she was about to perform. If Ashla sensed this was her father, she didn’t give anything away. Likely she will realize it at some point. Though she didn’t always perform surgery herself on everyone that she dueled, Ashla was usually involved in it in some manner as some of her duels ended with her removing arms and legs from her opponents. Sometimes fingers. Her daughter had become an expert at prosthetics. Which really, she shouldn’t be proud of. Well she was proud at her daughter’s abilities, but not proud that she had to keep putting people back together that she took apart. In this particular instance though, the majority of the damage done to him was nothing she’d had a hand in.

 She had no idea how he’d lost the rest of his limbs, or why his body was so badly damaged and scarred. Had this all been from what everyone believed to have killed him at the temple or later? She ran her fingers across the scars riddling his chest, remembering what it had felt like to touch him oh so long ago now. They were old scars. She could see the way his skin had tried to heal the area around it but had eventually given up. Whatever had caused them, they’d not been treated properly.

 Ashla looked up at her suddenly. “Mom?” she asked concerned.

 “I’m okay, love.”

 She glanced back at his face, moving up to the head of the bed. “I know him, don’t I?”

 “No,” she replied. “You’ve never met him before in your life.” She swallowed and looked down. “And for that, I’m sorry.”

 Ashla came around the bed and hugged her tight. “What happened to him?”

 “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But from here on out, he is who he chooses to be.”


	3. Chapter 3

“He’s awake, my lady,” Perch bowed before her.

 “Excellent,” she murmured getting to her feet and heading towards the detention area. He looked up at her when she entered. She could feel his anger and confusion at being restrained in such a manner, but in her opinion, this was nothing like the way he’d been restrained for fifteen years. “I offer you a choice,” she said, pacing back and forth in front of him after the door behind her closed. They were alone in the room. His eyes followed her as she moved, studying her carefully. “Join me or die.”

 She stopped in front of him and he was forced to tip his head back to look up at her. The binders on his wrist kept him tethered to the metal wall behind him. She felt uncertainty from him. “Do you not know who I am?” he asked incredulously.

 “I know who you were, but people change,” she replied pointedly. “I spared your life, but I freed you from the Emperor. You can either repay me by joining my crew or die.”

 “So I’m no longer a slave to the Emperor, but now I’m your slave? Some improvement.” He rolled his eyes.

 “You’ll find that every person on my crew is here because they want to be. This is not a slave ship. But in my position, I can’t trust anyone at their word. Earn your place here and you earn your freedom.” She leaned back against a table and crossed her arms.

 “What happened to you, Ahsoka?” he asked, his eyes narrowed but there was a flicker of concern in them. Funny he could still care about her after trying to kill her.

 “I grew up,” she answered simply. “You have one hour to think it over. But I’ll tell you, with those binders on your wrist, you aren’t going anywhere. Only I can control them.” She waved her hand and they unlatched from the wall and he caught himself as he fell forward. “By the way, stop calling me Ahsoka. My name is Temnaya Sova.”

 “Dark owl,” he whispered. A converee landed on her shoulder and he stared at it in surprise.

 They stared at each other a moment longer and then she turned and left the room.

 It no longer mattered if he stayed with her. She’d long since learned to let him go. But every opponent she fought was offered the same choice. Stay or die. Every single person on her crew, with the exception of Rex and Ashla were people she’d once bested in battle. They were loyal because they had witnessed first hand the power she possessed. She flaunted it only when she needed to, but preferred now, to only use the force in meditation and studying her opponents. His lightsaber had screamed in her hands to be saved from the same fate as him. Her daughter’s affinity to kyber crystals had taught her over the years how to feel them and the life in them. It’s why she’d refused to pick up her own. She didn’t want to feel who she once was. It was gone. A part of her past, better left forgotten.

 But just as she’d forced him to live with the choices he’d made, her past haunted her everywhere she went. Some of her crew suspected she was a Jedi, but she wasn’t lying to them that she wasn’t one. Some knew who she’d used to be. But all knew not to address her that way. This wasn’t a slave ship, it was a ship of refugees. A home to all those that had lost their way. He was just another lost soul along her journey that would cling to her like the others. The difference now is that their past was steeped in painful memories.

 “Mom!” Ashla ran down the hallway towards her.

 “What is it?” she asked, catching her in her arms.

 “The Emperor isn’t happy about you killing his apprentice. He put a massive bounty on your head.” She patted her daughter on the back.

 “Just add it to the pile of bounties already on my head,” she smirked.

 “Aren’t you scared?” Ashla asked, hugging her tightly.

 “No, but they are.” They both turned at the sound of pounding coming from the detention room. She opened the door and he fell out on his face having not expecting it to open that quickly.

 “He put a bounty on your head?” he asked, struggling to get to his feet. It was a moment before his eyes fell on her daughter still in her arms.

 “Care to collect on it?” she asked without concern.

 “No, but you should be worried.” He studied Ashla’s face and his eyes narrowed and glanced at her.

 “I don’t fear the Emperor,” she replied simply. “Just like I didn’t fear you.”

 He straightened in confusion, using his height to intimidate her. She stared him down defiantly. It didn’t matter what they used to be, only what they were now. “But he’ll do horrible things to you.”

 She released Ashla and stepped up close to him, he stepped back. “He has to catch me first.” She turned, grabbed her daughter’s hand and marched down the hallway. She felt him following behind her as they made their way to the bridge. Everyone they passed bowed before her. Part of her wondered what he must be thinking, but then she reminded herself she didn’t care.

 On the command deck, she spun on him, pulling the shiv back to her hand, still bloodied from their earlier fight. He’d flinched noticeably. It was funny how quickly someone could fear a tiny little knife. It wasn’t the knife you should fear, it was the skill of the person that wielded it. Just as many had feared him simply because of his blood red lightsaber. He had the power to back it up, what he’d never had was control. His emotions ruled him, they made him reckless and easily tripped. “Have you made a decision?” She pointed it at him. He moved his hands to cover the parts of his body she’d sliced up before. The memories of their earlier fight getting the better of him.

 “Join you or die? Not much of a choice,” he replied, glancing around at the rest of her mismatched crew. His eyes fell on Rex and widened in surprise.

 “At least it’s a choice,” she replied. He looked back up at her. She felt him reach out his senses and she put up her well-practiced wall. This was his decision not hers, so looking to her to know what to do was something she wouldn’t allow. How much did he value his life? He’d begged her for death before, but she doubted it was simply because he wanted to die. If he begged her for death it was to escape the consequences of his own choices. He was free from the trap he’d fallen into now, but he still had to live with the things he’d done and that was a far worse punishment for a man like him.

 “I’m at your service, my lady,” he bowed before her. She threw him a blaster that stopped at his feet and put her shiv away. He looked up in surprise.

 “Then welcome aboard.” She turned to the rest of her crew. “This is Maelstrom, he’s one of us now.” They cheered and moved forward to congratulate him. Telling him just how lucky he was to have found her and how much better his life would be now. She shook her head, smiling to herself. He  _was_  lucky. After the things she’d seen since leaving the order, she was offering him more than his life. She was offering him something he’d never had before; control over it. “Captain,” she turned to Rex. “How long before we make it home?”

 “About to come out of hyperspace,” he replied.

 “Excellent. Perch, you show him his new digs when we land.”

 “Yes, my lady,” he bowed to her. Anakin made his way up to stand by her side after the crew had finished their well wishes. They exited hyperspace and her crew went about their landing sequence. He watched the planet come into view, she could tell he didn’t recognize it. They navigated down to a world full of life and color. They could see the people outside cheering as they made port.

 “Welcome to Haven,” she said to him. “A home full of lost souls just like us.”

 “You’ll like it here,” Ashla said happily. She smiled at her daughter and turned to head to the loading ramp, both of them on her heels. Everywhere she went, she was greeted enthusiastically. It was strange to be such a symbol of heroism to so many people. All she’d done was move through the galaxy sweeping up the people that had fallen through the cracks as the Empire had seized control. Here was the most diverse habitat of life she’d ever seen. People from all walks of life just trying to find their way in the galaxy. Haven was an old abandoned outpost moon that she’d stumbled on in her travels. She’d reopened it as a community of like-minded people that wanted the same thing out of life as she did. Freedom.

 “You built this?” he whispered in surprise as they made their way through the streets.

 “No.” She beckoned to all the people around her. “They did. I just gave them a reason to.” At some point, he was going to realize they had a daughter together, if it hadn’t already occurred to him. At some point he was going to beg for answers. And at that point, she had no idea what she would tell him. Him coming into her life again was like a ghost appearing in front of her. Seeing the scars all over his body, told her there were even more scratched across his soul. Darkness still lingered in him, but it seemed to mostly have dispersed now that the suit was gone as though it had trapped it in there with him.

 He’d yet to thank her for that too. Her and Ashla had worked tirelessly for most of the day to get him out of it. After removing him from it and fixing him up, Ashla had taken it apart piece by piece. Who knew what she’d build out of it, but her ability to do that is what motivated her to keep that attitude with the rest of the crew. Pick apart your life, admire all aspects of it and rebuild it into something glorious that is worth living.

 _Old sins cast long shadows…_ but shadows live only in erroneous light.


End file.
